


A Weekend of Luxury

by asheningot



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Homophobia, M/M, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:24:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8523883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asheningot/pseuds/asheningot
Summary: Zen didn't know how he had gotten himself into this. Wait, no. He did actually, he just hadn't expected it to be so... nice.





	1. Jumin's Request

**Author's Note:**

> I don't write fanfiction often, but my roommate gave me this idea and I ran with it. She was also very nice and edited it for me because apparently my mastery of the english language is lacking. There are probably still a few grammatical errors though (sorry!)

Jumin: Assistant Kang, my father insists I have a significant other for our business trip to the UK.  
Jaehee: Why are you telling me this?  
Jumin: So that you have time to prepare.  
Jaehee: I’m sorry I have plans that weekend. Not to mention it is inappropriate for you to put me in this position.  
Jumin: Doing what?  
Zen: Probably cleaning her apartment, lol!  
Jaehee: My roommate from college is coming into town for that weekend.  
Zen: Oh, she really does have plans, and here I thought you were just running from Mr. Trust Fund Kid.  
Jumin: …  
Jumin: Zen, what are you doing the weekend of November fourth?  
Zen:….  
Zen:…..  
Zen: WTF???!!!  
Zen: Why are you asking me that?!  
Jumin: Many people from the entertainment industry will be there, I thought it might be a good opportunity for you to network.  
Zen: No way, as if I would ever agree to a date with you, are you kidding me?  
Jumin: Date?  
Zen: …..  
Zen: ….  
Zen: You said your father wanted you to have a date for this and then you asked me, what did you think you were asking?  
Jumin: If you do not wish to go, I will not force you.  
Zen: Arrogant as ever! You never think about anyone but yourself! I don’t know why I bother.  
~~~Zen has left the chat~~~  
Jaehee: If you will excuse me, I need to finish this report on your meeting with the winery.  
Jumin: Of course. Do not forget about my Cat Wine project, I wish to discuss it with my father.  
Jaehee: Of course, Mr. Han.  
~~~Jumin Han and Jaehee Kang have left the chat~~~

_What was that jerk thinking asking him to be his boyfriend for the weekend?_ Zen thought as he threw his phone down onto his duffel bag and stripped his clothes off to take a post workout shower. It always amazed Zen how little regard Jumin had for anyone else’s feelings, perhaps because Mr. Trust Fund Kid had yet to prove that he even possessed anything resembling normal human emotions. He was a robot; Zen had come to terms with that. However, Jumin still never failed to get on his nerves, as much as Zen hated to admit it. Everything Jumin said annoyed Zen, and yet he still had the nerve to ask him to go away with him for the weekend under the false pretense that they were dating. But a little voice in the back of Zen’s head wondered why Jumin cared? He had never shown the slightest inclination that he cared what his father thought about his personal life, especially when it came to romantic relationships. So then, why was Jumin bothering to acquiesce his father’s request? Zen had wondered along with Seven if Jumin was even attracted to anyone other than Elizabeth 3rd.  
Zen shook his head, attempting to clear his thoughts, as he entered the shower. Inside, steaming hot water seeped through his long, silvery hair. He couldn’t care less what Jumin’s reasons for asking him were; he still was not interested in Jumin, fake relationship or otherwise. Not to mention he did not need Mr. Director’s money or influence in order to succeed in his acting career, nor did he want it – something else that Jumin would never understand.  
Zen sighed as he reached over to grab the bottle of shampoo. He squeezed out some of the tan colored liquid before gently massaging the mint smelling cleanser into his long hair, all thoughts of Jumin disappearing like the steam wafting from the shower. 

\----------  
   
707: Does Jumin Han is Gay? Or should I say, bi, since he asked both Jaehee and Zen to be his fake dates.  
Yoosung: lolololol  
Yoosung: Poor Jumin, he just wanted a friend to go with him.  
707: …..  
707:…..  
707: Yeah, that’s totally what he wanted.  
~~~Zen has entered the chat~~~  
Yoosung: huh?  
707: don’t worry about it.  
707: So, Zen, what are you going to pack for your weekend getaway with Jumin?  
Zen: I am not going with that JERK! He had no right to ask me!  
707: lolololol  
707: Yeah, sure. You know you want to go.  
Zen: I am not gay!  
707: But you could party like rich people do! It would be great research for future roles.  
Zen: Now you sound like that JERK!  
Yoosung: Hey, it could be fun. Plus I bet the food would be amazing!  
Zen: You two are not helping. I’m going to go and workout.  
~~~Zen has left the chat~~~

This was getting exhausting; Zen’s brain was refusing to think rationally about the situation since the thought _“maybe I should go”_ had just popped into his head. Seven had a point. It would give Zen the opportunity to see what it was like in Jumin’s world, the world that Zen had never even been close to and the one, which caused so much tension between him and the other RFA member.  
Zen threw his phone down on his bed in frustration. He shouldn’t even be questioning whether or not he would go; the answer was a most definitely “no.” Still, Zen couldn’t help but think back to the incident with Echo Girl. Zen curled up onto his side and into a fetal position as he remembered how alone he felt when she accused him of sexual harassment. Though, when all hope seemed lost, the person still by his side surprised him the most. Jumin, the trust fund kid without emotions had not only helped him dispel the false accusations, but had personally ventured to the place looking over the city where Zen went to be alone. Why? To comfort Zen. Jumin Han, the man without emotions, comforted Zen. After that incident, their relationship had improved. They did not fight nearly as much as before, but Jumin still lived in a completely different world than Zen, which occasionally caused contention between them.  
Zen remembered Jumin’s face when he got out of his limo at the overlook. His lips were turned downward in the slightest of frowns and the minute lines on his forehead showed his worry despite the comforting words coming out of his lips. For a minute, up there on that overlook, the bustling city below them, Zen thought Jumin was going to hug him, and Zen had spent many sleepless nights after that wondering how he would have reacted had Jumin actually done it.  
Rolling onto his back, Zen grabbed his phone and texted “Fine, what should I pack?” to Jumin before his mind could catch up with his fingers. After all, Jumin had been there for him, and Zen was nothing if not a man that pays his debts.  
Zen’s annoyance quickly returned once he read Jumin’s reply: “Nothing, I will pack for you as your current wardrobe is not appropriate for the occasion. I will have a car sent to pick you up at 7 AM on the Forth.”  
Zen chucked his phone roughly back onto the bed in response to Jumin’s controlling behavior. He wondered what he got himself into and proceeded to pick up the script for his performance this week. Zen practiced his lines to calm himself back down. He had always found acting therapeutic, which was good because he was going to be Jumin’s fake boyfriend for the weekend, and there was no backing out now. 

\----------  
   
After a week of back-to-back performances, Zen usually liked to reward himself by sleeping in, but today his blaring alarm disrupted the early morning quiet and reminded him of his promise to Jumin. He groaned and fumbled to shut the clock up. _Stupid Jumin, and his stupid father, and my stupid promise. Why am I doing this again? Oh yeah, because I am a nice person._  
Zen rolled out of bed, his muscles stretching and complaining at the sudden movement as he moved to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower.  
Getting out of the shower, he wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back into his bedroom, staring at the white box sitting on the chair that Jumin’s driver had dropped off the night before.  
“Clothes for the gentlemen to wear tomorrow,” is all the driver said before bowing and returning to Jumin’s car, leaving Zen standing dumbfounded, his mouth agape as he shut his front door that he wished he had never opened. Jumin had to know that as an actor, Zen’s appearance was of the utmost importance, forcing Zen to dress elegantly all the time to maintain his reputation, but despite that Mr.Trustfund seemed to think Zen had nothing to wear. Zen dropped the box on a chair he had been staring at and elected to ignore it because the gesture almost caused him to call the whole weekend off.  
The next morning, still damp from his shower, Zen opened the box. Inside he found an elegant white suit in his size. It was completely unknown to Zen how Jumin would possibly know his measurements. On principal, Zen really objected to wearing the suit, even though it suited him perfectly, merely because Jumin had bought it for him without his consent. However, Zen had agreed to this weekend and to helping Jumin so he reluctantly dressed in the clothes he knew cost more than the furniture in his apartment. “I’m just acting, this weekend I have a new role,” Zen rationalized. Suddenly, he heard his doorbell ring. He glanced at the clock realizing that it was 7AM already. _This is nothing I can’t handle,_ he thought as he grabbed a small bag that he had packed against Jumin’s wishes and opened the door. _Or maybe not,_ Zen thought when instead of the driver that had dropped the clothes off the night before standing in his doorway, it was Jumin himself, looking as handsome as ever in a charcoal suit and pinstripe shirt.  
“We have to be at the airport in fifteen minutes,” was all Jumin said before turning to walk back to his limo, not even looking back to make sure Zen was following him. 

\----------

707: ZEN!  
707: Zen  
707: ZEN!!!  
~~~Jaehee Kang has entered the chat~~~  
Jaehee: He is busy. He and Mr. Han are headed to the airport.  
707: WHAT!!!???  
707: …..  
Jaehee: Yes, they are meeting with Jumin’s father in the United Kingdom this weekend.  
707: Jumin and Zen sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.  
707: lololol  
707: I can’t believe Zen actually agreed.  
Jaehee: Zen is just trying to be helpful. He is always so considerate.  
707: lol yeah, I’m sure that’s why he went.  
Jaehee: If you’ll excuse me, I have a report to finish before I can leave for the weekend.  
707: Okay, laterz  
Jaehee: Goodbye.  
~~~707 has left the chat~~~  
~~~ Jaehee Kang has left the chat~~~


	2. The "Talk"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every time Zen thinks it's going to be okay, Jumin does something else. It's going to be a long weekend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, thank you to everyone who not only read this, but left kudos! That means so much to mean that someone other than me likes my writing. Also, there are five chapters that are already written, so I will try to post a chapter a day unless life gets in the way. Hope you enjoy!

Zen was riding on a private jet and he would be lying to himself if he said he wasn’t a little bit excited. Okay, so that was a lie too. It was taking everything he had not to smile giddily and explore every nook and cranny of the aircraft as if he was a child exploring something for the first time. If Jumin noticed Zen’s excitement, he didn’t comment on it. He simply instructed Zen as to which seat was his and had the stewardess pour them both glasses of champagne.  
The interior of the aircraft was everything Zen imagined, complete with genuine leather seats and dark mahogany accents throughout the cabin. The seats were in pairs, each facing each other on either side of the aircraft with a small table separating them, which could fold out of the way to make room for foot rests on each seat to come up.  
Much to Zen’s surprise, instead of taking a seat somewhere else on the plane, Jumin sat down in the seat directly across from Zen. Up until this moment, Zen really hadn’t considered the fact that not only was he going to have to converse amiably with Jumin, but further, he was going to have to do it often.  
Zen watched Jumin sit, his layered hair shifting slightly with the motion and his eyes fixed on the window of the plane as he sat. Zen’s eyes wandered up to Jumin’s brown eyes before settling on his lips. In that moment, Jumin stuck out his tongue to lightly wet his lips. Zen tried to shake the image out of his mind, but panicked. _How close to those soft looking lips am I going to get over the course of this weekend?,_ he worried. Zen coughed and looked away, taking a deep breath to summon the courage to ask Jumin a question.  
“What is expected of me this weekend? I mean…. I’m yo….ur boy….friend, correct?” Zen stuttered out, unsure if he had actually articulated himself well enough for Jumin to understand him.  
Jumin’s eyes shifted from the window and onto his friend. He watched, as Zen’s eyes looked away and a faint pink blush crept over his cheeks.  
When Jumin didn’t immediately respond, Zen tried to clarify his question, but Jumin cut him off saying, “I heard you the first time. Perhaps it would be reasonable to set rules for this engagement.” Zen almost choked to death on the word “engagement” before realizing that Jumin did not mean the word in the relationship sense and nodded to encourage Jumin to continue.  
“My father will expect us to dine with him and his latest girlfriend at least once. Beyond that, most people we meet will both know my father and of our relationship. We must act as if we are… together, at all times when in the public eye.” Zen couldn’t help but notice a faint flush on Jumin’s cheeks when he said the word “together” and had to resist the urge to smirk at his friend’s discomfort, something that Jumin rarely showed anyone but his cat.  
“Of course, what exactly will be expected of me in those situations?”  
“What do you mean?”  
“I’m sorry, I momentarily forgot how dense you are. Hand holding, hugging, uhhhh, kissing. What are the physical requirements of this relationship?” Zen explained, not believing that he had really just put kissing on the table of options.  
Jumin blinked at Zen’s questions, a headache already starting to take hold. He was saved from an immediate reply as the pilot came over the intercom and asked Jumin to authorize their departure. Jumin used the intercom to confirm and buckled his seat belt as the plane began to move away from the gate. After he was done, Jumin glanced at Zen who was still expecting a reply. Jumin stifled a sigh and quietly let out, “Is that what couples do?”  
Zen put on what he hoped was normal face at what Jumin just said. He was uncertain if he heard his friend correctly, so he repeated the question that had been whispered to him, “Is that what couples do? You don’t know?” Zen asked, suddenly more interested in Jumin’s life as he felt a twinge in his heart at Mr. Trustfund’s admission that he didn’t know how couples act. Zen knew that Jumin’s father was a womanizer, a fact that Jumin often lamented in the messenger. It was most likely the reason for Jumin’s cold demeanor towards women, but Zen hadn’t considered that Jumin never experienced emotions such as romance and love before, only that he chose not to give into those feelings in favor of reason and prudence.  
“I have not had the occasion to find out and I doubt my father is a good example. Perhaps you would be so kind as to inform me.”  
“I….” Zen hesitated, if he didn’t explain couple behavior then he would not be forced to touch Jumin for the entirety of the weekend, but that would be neglecting the duties of his role as fake boyfriend. Once Zen accepted a role, he gave it his all no matter what.  
“Yes, that is what couples do. They are signs of physical affection. Hand holding, hugging, kissing, even light touches and looks are all ways that people show devotion to one another and things that will make our story more believable. Speaking of ‘our story’ how did we meet and who asked whom out?”  
“Is that necessary?”  
“Someone might ask and if our stories don’t match then it will look suspicious.”  
Jumin nodded and acted like he was committing Zen’s every word to memory, as if this was a learning experience. Zen had to admit, it felt pretty good to be able to teach the high and mighty Jumin something, if only because it proved that Jumin was in fact at least part human.  
They settled on a mundane story that they had met through a mutual friend (which was in fact the truth) and that Zen had asked Jumin out, as he was the more affectionate of the two.  
“Good, a story closest to the truth is easier to remember. Now,” Zen took a deep breath, being cutoff by the planes sudden acceleration and climb in altitude, for which he was grateful because what he was about to ask next was going to be embarrassing beyond belief, but if this was going to work, then it was necessary.  
“Our first lesson should be flirting,” Zen said once they were in the air, his hand playing with the bottom of his champagne flute.  
“You look delectable in that suit,” Jumin replied, in a low, husky voice, his eyelids half closed and head cocked slightly to the side in a seductive manner.  
Zen broke the champagne flute he had been playing with sending the alcoholic liquid splashing across the table and dripping onto the floor. Zen was grateful for the distraction as the stewardess rushed over to clean up the mess. There was no way that he was going to admit that Jumin’s words had just sent a shiver down his spine and caused butterflies to take up residence in his stomach.  
Once the mess was cleaned up, Jumin had the audacity to say, “I think those lessons will not be necessary.”  
It was going to be a long flight.

\----------  
   
Just when Zen thought this weekend would go smoothly and he might actually be able to enjoy himself, Jumin went and did something else. Zen had been in awe at the hotel they were staying at in London. The lobby was accented with so much gold in it he wondered if it would make him go blind like his beauty did to others. The floor and pillars were made of marble, covered with a plush red carpet. In the center of the lobby stood a central staircase that made him think of the fairytale, Cinderella. It was everything Zen could do not to stand in the doorway with his mouth agape.  
As he surveyed the room, Jumin checked in at the desk and then returned with the room keys and led Zen to the elevator, pressing the highest floor number. Zen rolled his eyes, because, of course Jumin got a room on the top floor from which to survey his kingdom.  
It wasn’t all of this that bothered Zen, however, what did bother him was the fact that despite the spaciousness and luxuriousness of their room it was not only in fact their room, but their bed, singular. In the center of the room stood a four-poster king bed complete with silk sheets.  
If that bastard thought that Zen was going to sleep with him, then he had another thing coming. Zen opened his mouth to voice his opinion, but Jumin cut him off, “It would raise suspicions if the room had two beds.”  
“Who would know besides the girl at the desk? Why would that matter? It’s not as if your father would find out and since when do you care what he thinks anyway?!” Zen spat back with his usual anger.  
“He would find out,” was Jumin replied as he disappeared into the bathroom.  
Zen collapsed on the bed in defeat. _It’s only three nights. It’s only three nights,_ Zen chanted silently to calm himself.  
When Jumin exited the bathroom, he started to hang up his phone. He looked rather more stern than usual.  
“I’m sorry, my father has arranged for a private meeting with a wine company this evening. My driver will be at your disposal for the evening while I am away.”  
“Don’t worry about it, this is a business trip after all,” Zen reassured, hoping his excitement did not come through in his voice. The truth was that Zen was exhausted; both from the twelve-hour plane ride and from spending so much time with Jumin. He was looking forward to an evening of peace.  
Jumin simply nodded and exited their room to go to his meeting.  
As exhausted as Zen was, he was also eager to bathe. Despite the fact that they flew on a private plane, there was something about air travel that inherently made him feel dirty. He began stripping off the expensive suit Jumin had insisted he wear and carefully hung it up in the closet before entering the bathroom. Zen turned the bath knob to let hot water flow into the enormous tub. Zen was usually a shower person, but his muscles were sore from lack of use on the plane making a long soak in the luxurious hotel tub more appealing.  
A gold tray sat on the edge of the tub holding shampoos and other cleansers as well as oils. Zen poured some lavender and chamomile oil into the water before turning the knob to stop the falling water. He submerged himself in the pleasant smelling water.  
After a nice, relaxing soak, Zen forced himself out of the water and wrapped himself in a towel. He cursed himself for not grabbing pajamas, but was comforted by the fact that Jumin should be gone for quite a while due to his meeting. But upon opening the bathroom door he realized the error of his ways very quickly. Not only had Jumin returned, but he was also accompanied by an older gentleman who could only be Jumin’s father based on their shared family resemblance.  
Zen quickly retreated into the bathroom, but not before he saw the amused smirk that graced Jumin’s face. Zen locked the door and slide down to the floor, his face pulsing with hotness at what had just transpired.  
After what seemed like an eternity, Zen heard a soft knock at the door. He was tempted not to open it, but he knew he could not logically spend the entire weekend locked in the bathroom, despite his intense desire to do just that.  
He opened the door slightly, but by then Jumin had already pushed through into the bathroom and closed the door, locking it once more.  
“What the hell?” Zen exclaimed.  
“I brought you clothes,” Jumin offered.  
“Yeah, but you could have just handed them to me!”  
“My father wishes for you to join us for dinner,” Jumin said, ignoring Zen’s protests.  
“Oh God, I don’t think I can ever look him in the face. That was so embarrassing, I thought you had a meeting!”  
“It was only brief, which my father failed to inform me of on the phone. Please get dressed.”  
“What? You don’t like what you see?” Zen spoke before he could stop himself. Now was not the time or the place for teasing, and Zen wasn’t sure if his face could handle anymore blushing, but regardless, he said it anyway.  
At that question, Jumin raised his gaze to look at his half-naked friend. He started by meeting Zen’s rubicund eyes before slowly fixating on his lips. Jumin continued his visual exploration, his eyes lowering to Zen’s defined chest, stopping only when the towel hindered his gaze. Jumin retraced his slow gaze back up, finally making eye contact once again.  
“You are very handsome, as you are well aware, but my father is not a patient man. Dress,” Jumin ordered.  
After insisting that if Jumin wasn’t going to leave the bathroom he could at least turn around, Zen finally dressed. Zen’s breathing was labored; less from the strain of putting on his suit, and more from the hungry gaze that Jumin had just given him. He was beginning to wonder if Jumin had asked him to come this weekend not just as a favor, but because he really was interested in Zen romantically. Zen squashed that thought and steeled himself for an awkward dinner with his fake boyfriend’s father.


	3. Finding a Rhythm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his jet lag, Zen endures and awkward double date with Jumin's father.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *squeals of joy at the number of kudos* Thanks for reading :)

The first thing Zen noticed about Jumin’s father was that Jumin had not exaggerated the extent of his womanizing. Zen was unsure how the woman who he had brought as a date could stand wearing such a short and tight dress, but he pitied her. Not only that, but Jumin’s father constantly grabbed and touched her throughout dinner, as if she existed only for his pleasure. She did not seem to resist, but the behavior was less than tactful. Zen and Jumin on the other hand barely touched, at least where anyone could see them. At some point during dinner, probably when Jumin’s father had made an offhand homophobic comment, Jumin had grabbed Zen’s hand and did not let go until forced to by the arrival of food. Zen didn’t mind, not only because he had agreed to handholding as part of their fake relationship, but also because he could tell that Jumin was distressed by the entire situation. Zen wanted to reassure him.  
Halfway through dinner, Jumin’s father seemed bored of them, turning all of his attention to his attractive date, leaving Zen and Jumin to talk quietly.  
“I wish we could leave,” Zen whispered into Jumin’s ear, without any thought of the implications behind it.  
“Yes, it is rude of my father to ask you here and then ignore you,” Jumin replied quietly.  
“Is this how it always is?”  
“Yes.”  
The rest of dinner passed in much of the same vein, with Jumin’s father occasionally directing a question at Zen, but never at Jumin, and then returning his attention back to his date. By the time dinner had ended, Zen was offended for Jumin, although he dared not say a word (fearful of getting Jumin in trouble.)  
When they were finally alone in the comfort of Jumin’s rented town car, Zen opened his mouth to complain, but Jumin spoke first.  
“What would you like to do for the rest of the evening?”  
“I… uh. I’m not sure. I would like to see the city, but I am exhausted,” Zen replied, suppressing a yawn. Clearly Jumin did not wish to discuss anything the events of dinner.  
“It’s early still. Driver, King’s Road please,” Jumin said, ignoring Zen’s pleas of exhaustion.  
As hard as it was for Zen to keep his eyes open, the city lights that flew past the passenger window dazzled him. The streets were bustling with cars and pedestrians and it seemed to get more crowded the closer they got to their destination.  
The driver parked the car on the street and Jumin gave him his orders before taking Zen by the hand and pulling him down the street lined with boutiques and designer stores.  
They meandered along the sidewalk, pausing every time something in a window caught Zen’s eye. The first few times, Jumin insisted that he could purchase the displayed item for him. Zen repeatedly explained the concept of window-shopping, but he still wasn’t sure that Jumin understood. Eventually, Jumin had stopped offering to buy every little knick-knack that caught Zen’s eye, but Zen could tell that he still wanted to.  
After roughly an hour of wandering down the street and peering into the shops, the driver returned with the car. It was only when Zen was seated in the backseat and when Jumin excused himself to run an errand that Zen realized the reason his hand was cold, lacking the warmth that radiated from holding Jumin’s palm. He stared at his hand as if it was no longer attached to him, only to be startled out of his stupor by the car door opening. Jumin entered the car holding a small paper bag, and instructed the driver to deliver them to their hotel. By the time they arrived, Zen’s eyes were closing and his head threatened to no longer stand up on its own. He was only vaguely aware of the arm around his lower back guiding him to the elevator and then into their room. 

\----------  
   
Zen woke up several hours later, and found himself in only his dress shirt and pants. Jumin was lying fast asleep next to him. Instead of getting up to find his pajamas, Zen took his time to observe Jumin without the executive trying to put on a face. Jumin was dressed in grey, pinstripe matching pajamas, which Zen could not help but roll his eyes at. But it was Jumin’s face the occupied Zen the most. He looked peaceful, as if he was not worrying about work or his father, which Jumin did almost every waking hour. Zen didn’t know how Jumin had such dedication for his work considering his father’s behavior, but it wasn’t Zen’s place to judge, as his own relationship with his family was less than kosher as well.  
Zen got up to undress and smiled when he heard a brief snore come from the usually put together director. He stripped the remains of his suit off and replaced them with a tank top and boxers before going back to bed.  
The next time Zen woke it was due to the sun shining through the windows. There were several things that Zen became acutely aware of as the last bit of drowsiness waned. One was that Jumin’s arms were engulfing him in a tight embrace and the second was that for the first time in years, Zen had woken up with morning wood. Zen stiffened at this realization, hoping to untangle himself from Jumin and to take care of his situation before the other awoke, but luck was not on Zen’s side. At the same time he started to move to get up, the alarm sounded from the bedside table, waking Jumin.  
When Jumin mumbled a lazy “g’morning,” and tightened his grip on Zen’s waist, the sound and actions went straight to Zen’s groin. He hoped vaguely that Jumin didn’t notice how hard his member was becoming.  
Zen had never quite decided anything about his sexuality. He liked women, that was clear given his previous partners, but where he stood on men had previously been unknown to him. Now, as he moved closer into Jumin’s embrace, he was beginning to realize that he might be attracted to at least one man, and Zen was perfectly okay with that.  
Zen returned the “g’morning” as Jumin released him to turn off the alarm, leaving Zen’s torso feeling bare. He stopped himself from letting out a whimper at the loss of contact. Zen was surprised at himself for how desperate he was becoming, but it had been a while since his last relationship. _Yeah, that was totally it,_ Zen thought. Lying to himself seemed easier than admitting the reality of his situation.  
When the alarm stopped blaring, Jumin swung his legs out of their bed and stood up to choose an outfit, which would more likely than not be some variation of the same thing he wore yesterday, only in different colors. Zen took the opportunity to rush into the bathroom.  
He stood at the mirror, his hands shaking with the realization that he cuddled with Jumin Han and beyond that had actually enjoyed it. This was supposed to be fake, and not only that, but Jumin was his friend, despite all their differences. However, within the last twenty-four hours, Zen had realized that his feelings for his friend might potentially go beyond pure friendship. If the way Jumin was treating him was any indication, it might not be entirely one sided either. Then again, maybe Zen was imagining things. _Hoping,_ Zen’s mind supplied, which made him let out a frustrated groan.

\----------  
   
When Zen emerged from the bathroom, Jumin was waiting patiently by the desk, going over some paperwork. He was still in his pajamas.  
“I will leave the schedule for today here on the table for you to look over while I shower,” Jumin said before heading into the bathroom.  
Zen grabbed the piece of paper Jumin referenced and sat down in one of the plush armchairs facing the windows. Jumin had not fully explained the events of their weekend trip. Prior, he had only described visiting with various corporations that his company either already worked closely with or wished to work with in the future. Apparently, Zen’s presence was really only required for the banquet Saturday night with multiple corporations, including some from the entertainment industry. As Zen continued reading, he realized he understood very little about Jumin. He had meetings every half hour for most of the day, with only an hour break for lunch and an hour before the banquet. Zen could not fathom how he stood it. Zen had to endure long workdays too. Although, these days were filled with rehearsals, which seemed far more beneficial then simply chatting with people all day long.  
Zen looked up when he heard the bathroom door creak open and was treated with a delicious sight of Jumin Han in nothing but a towel, beads of water dripping down his toned chest. Zen stared as Jumin moved to the closet to dress.  
Jumin began, chuckling at the stare Zen had given him. “I’ve set clothing out for you for the day as well as for the banquet. A car will be at your disposal too, so you may go anywhere you please. Be back at the hotel by 5 PM,” Jumin instructed.  
“Do you like choosing my clothes?” Zen asked, genuinely curious.  
“It’s only practical that I do.”  
“That didn’t answer my question.”  
Jumin breathed an almost inaudible, “Yes.”  
“I don’t mind. For having no fashion sense for yourself, you choose outfits that make me even more handsome,” Zen teased.  
Jumin made no reply to Zen’s teasing, causing Zen’s playful smirk to falter slightly. But it didn’t last long. Jumin walked over to the door and stopped, “I would have nothing less than perfection standing beside me.” Zen’s heart fluttered at Jumin’s words and a blush took over his handsome features. It was Jumin’s turn to smirk as he closed the door behind him. One thing was for certain: this weekend was going to be the death of Zen. 

\----------  
   
Zen was glad that he was not required to attend Jumin’s various meetings because he could not think of a less enjoyable way to pass a day in foreign country. Instead, Zen used the time after his daily workout to be a tourist. His first stop was Royal Albert Hall because while did not have tickets to a show, he still enjoyed being this close to such a grand stage. He passed the rest of the day on a tour of the Tower of London and at the National History Museum before returning to the hotel to dress.  
The suit Jumin had picked out was quite different from Zen’s usual attire. For one, it was much darker: all of the pieces were midnight black, including the vest and shirt. Had Jumin also included black gloves, Zen could have easily been mistaken for hit man, but he dressed anyway after taking a quick shower.  
By the time he was ready, Jumin had returned.  
“How was your day?” Zen asked, not even looking up from putting moisturizer on his naturally flawless face.  
Zen heard a slight gasp before Jumin answered with a quick, “Fine.”  
“Like what you see?” Zen asked, standing up so Jumin could see just how nice the suit he had picked out looked on Zen. He was rewarded with a flustered stammer from Jumin, which made Zen’s chest tighten. That was enough to pull Zen out of his revere. He hated Jumin Han. That had been a fact of life ever since they met. But now, standing in this London hotel room, Zen was not only blushing like a schoolgirl, but also flirting shamelessly with the man he had sworn to hate.  
Zen coughed, “I’ll get out of your way so you can get ready.” _I am not romantically interested in Jumin Han, it just isn’t possible. I am just getting too into my performance as a fake boyfriend. Yeah, that was it._ Zen had always thrown himself into all his roles after all. In that moment, Zen looked over as Jumin unbuttoned his shirt. _Or, maybe not,_ he thought.  
While Zen waited for Jumin to get ready, he logged into the messenger app for the first time since their trip had begun.

~~~Zen has entered the chat~~~  
Zen: Hello  
Zen: How is everyone dealing with the loss of my beauty from their life?  
Yoosung: Zen, I’ve missed you!  
Zen: lol  
Zen: Still playing lolol?  
Yoosung: Yeah, they’re having a triple XP event this weekend!  
Zen: What about studying?  
Yoosung: Zennn, you’re not supposed to be the responsible one.  
~~~707 has entered the chat~~~  
707: How’s dating Jumin going?  
Zen: …  
Zen: …  
707: OOOH! He doesn’t want to talk about it, it must be juicy!  
Yoosung: Juicy?  
707: You’ll understand when you’re older.  
Zen: There is nothing to talk about it since nothing has happened.  
707: Why do you sound disappointed about that?  
Zen: I’M NOT!  
707: Sure, you keep telling yourself that.  
Yoosung: At least you didn’t drink ten cartons of chocolate milk because of Seven’s prank.  
Zen: I can’t believe you actually fell for that to be honest, lol.  
Yoosung: Ugh, not you too.  
Yoosung: I’m going to play lolol.  
~~~Yoosung has left the chat~~~  
707: But seriously  
707: If you have any questions about how things work, you can ask me.  
707: 707 has got your back!  
Zen: I’m not even going to dignify that with a response.  
~~~Zen has left the chat~~~  
707: lol  
~~~707 has left the chat~~~


	4. A Confusing Evening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The banquet doesn't quite go as planned and it has some unintended consequences *wink wink*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning for homophobia in this chapter (because of course Jumin's father doesn't approve.)

The banquet was much like Zen both feared and imagined. To sum it up, it was a bunch of rich people together in one room, smiling while lying to one another. While Zen had met with several Directors and modeling agencies, for which he was immensely thankful, the vast majority of the attendants were simply born rich, and thus like Jumin, difficult to converse with. Though, Zen had to admit, their conversational barrier had waned in the last two days they spent together and Zen wasn’t sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he was grateful they were becoming friends, if only for the sake of the RFA and future parties. But on the other, Zen wasn’t so sure he wanted to be just friends, and furthermore, he most definitely didn’t know what he thought about that. His earlier conversation with Seven had not helped either, making him imagine how some of the things Seven had been implying would feel. Like how Jumin’s soft hands would feel lightly tracing lines down Zen’s stomach and just where he would place wet kisses on Zen’s body. Simply imagining such intimate touches made Zen’s skin go aflame. _Just one more day and plane ride, that’s all I have to make it through before things will go back to normal._  
“I quite enjoy musicals, but I am passionate about anything that gets me up on stage,” Zen was saying to a producer from one of the more well-known movie studios.  
“Yes, there is something to be said for the stage, but I think you would do quite well on screen as well,” the producer complimented.  
At that moment, Zen felt a hand wrap around his waist, causing him to stiffen before relaxing after realizing whom it belonged to.  
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but I must take my boyfriend away,” Jumin apologized, before pressing his hand into Zen’s waist to guide him away.  
In response to hearing Jumin say the word “boyfriend” in relation to himself, Zen suddenly melted into a fiery hot mess. His chest tightened and he worried that Jumin could feel his erratic heartbeat. Oddly enough, however, Zen became very disappointed when he remembered that Jumin was simply playing his part in their charade.  
“My father wishes to speak to us,” Jumin supplied when Zen shot him a questioning look after he had regained his senses.  
Zen nodded. He was guided to a less crowded conference room off to the side that branched into the main dining and gathering areas of the mansion where the banquet had been taking place in.  
“Ah, Director Brown, allow me to introduce my son and his… friend,” Jumin’s father introduced, hesitating on what to call Zen despite him being the reason Zen was in this situation to begin with.  
“How do you do?” Brown asked, extending his hand for both Jumin and Zen to shake.  
“It’s a pleasure,” Zen replied graciously when the hand was offered to him.  
After a few pleasantries were exchanged and Zen was informed that the young Director worked in the financial industry, things took a turn for the worst when Brown asked a seemingly innocent question.  
“How long have you two been together?” Director Brown asked, gesturing between Zen and Jumin.  
Despite the fact that Jumin’s hand was still pressed into Zen’s waist, Jumin’s father interrupted: “They are not together. My only son is _not_ gay.” At his father’s words Jumin’s grip tightened, and likewise, Zen’s chest flared with anger.  
“I didn’t mean too…” Director Brown tried weakly to sooth the situation over, but Zen did not want it to be swept under the rug. Jumin’s father had no right to say such things.  
“Three months, we’ve been together three months, but we have known each other for several years before that,” Zen answered, ignoring Jumin’s fathers gasp.  
“That’s nice,” Director Brown replied, clearly wanting to leave the room quickly. He emptied his glass, which served as an excuse to vacate the room.  
As Brown exited the room under the guise of finding himself a refill, it was Jumin’s turn to address the situation.  
“Father, my sexual orientation and romantic involvements are none of your concern and I would appreciate it if you did not cause a scene,” Jumin stated, his hand moving from Zen’s waist to grasp his hand.  
“We will be leaving now,” Jumin continued, turning to the door and walking out, before his father had time to reply. Zen’s hand was still grasped protectively in Jumin’s. 

\----------  
   
“I’m…”  
“Don’t,” Jumin cut him off curtly when they were back in the car headed to their hotel.  
Zen sat in shock, unsure of how to make Jumin feel better, but his stomach decided to think for him, letting out a loud growl to remind him that they had skipped the banquet part of the banquet.  
Evidently Jumin heard Zen’s stomach because after a few words to the driver, the car veered off-route, away from their hotel. Zen found himself being pulled out of the car and into a nearly empty, fancy restaurant. Despite the emptiness of the restaurant, Jumin requested a secluded table and a bottle of their best wine.  
“I –,” Zen started, but he was silenced by a pointed look from Jumin. Apparently their romantic dinner was going to be a silent affair. Zen just wished that he could say something that would cheer Jumin up, but nothing came to mind.  
“Elizabeth 3rd,” Zen stated, before Jumin could silence him.  
Jumin looked surprised that Zen did not spontaneously combust by merely saying the cat’s name.  
“I’m sorry, I was just looking for something to cheer you up and you always like to talk about her.”  
“No, I… appreciate the thought. I hope Assistant Kang is not abusing her.”  
“You left her with Jaehee even though she had plans this weekend?”  
“I am paying her, of course.”  
Zen sighed, “That’s not the point. You are inconveniencing your assistant and she cannot say no for fear of losing her job.”  
“But, if I am compensating her, then it cannot be an inconvenience.”  
“How would you feel if someone dropped a pet off on you this weekend. Would it not interrupt your plans?”  
“Would I be getting paid?”  
“Forget it, I give up,” Zen said, throwing his hands up in exasperation, making Jumin laugh (not just a chuckle, an actual laugh.) Zen’s eyes widened in surprise; he thought he might die from the sound because he didn’t know Jumin could actually laugh. Not only that, but his laugh was an enchanting, bubbling sound that sent shivers down Zen’s spine.  
“I’m kidding. Assistant Kang refused, so I hired Elizabeth 3rd a maid.”  
“Your cat now has a maid? At least you didn’t ruin Jaehee’s weekend.” Zen shook his head, happy to see Jumin relaxing somewhat as their food was delivered. Zen didn’t know exactly what Jumin’s relationship with his father was like, but the least Zen could do was support him.  
Throughout the rest of their dinner conversation, Jumin interrogated Zen about the contacts he had made during their brief time at the banquet, and whether Zen expected any of the directors offers to come to fruition. Nothing was mentioned about the Chairman’s rude comments, but Zen could tell that Jumin was still concerned.  
When they were done with their meal and walking out of the quaint restaurant, Zen could have sworn he heard a soft “thank you,” come from Jumin. 

\----------  
   
“Would you like dessert?” Jumin asked when they returned to their room, most likely not insinuating anything other than the actual consumption of sweets, but that didn’t stop Zen.  
“That depends on what kind of dessert you are talking about?” Zen quipped back suggestively as Jumin lifted a decorated paper bag.  
“Chocolate truffles. I purchased them the first night we were here, but you passed out before I could give them to you.”  
“Ri..Right, those sound good,” Zen replied, walking over to Jumin and extending his hand, expecting Jumin to hand him the bag. But instead, Jumin opened the bag, removed a truffle and placed it on Zen’s lips, softly whispering: “Open,” as he did.  
Zen, almost in shock, complied with Jumin’s request, talking the round ball of chocolate into his mouth and savoring it. Jumin smirked, but Zen was not one to give in so easily. He deftly stuck his hand in the paper bag Jumin was still holding and mirrored Jumin’s actions, lifting his eyebrow and daring Jumin to take the truffle from his fingers.  
To his surprise, Jumin complied without hesitation, sucking the truffle into his mouth and brushing his tongue along Zen’s fingers, causing an embarrassing moan to rise from Zen’s throat.  
“Is it time for my next lesson?” Jumin asked, his voice low. They were so close; Zen could feel Jumin’s hot breath flit across his face.  
“What?” Zen asked, confused.  
“The hand-holding and hugging lessons have been completed.”  
Zen had almost forgotten about their conversation on the plane about what couples did. Zen gulped. Kissing. That was the last thing he had listed off. Two days ago, Zen would never consider touching Jumin, let alone in a romantic manner. The man was uptight, inconsiderate, and rude, but now – now Zen wasn’t so sure. He was utterly confused at the entire situation and even more so at his own feelings. He wanted to kiss Jumin. He, Zen, wanted to kiss Jumin Han, the spoiled rich brat. Jumin had even suggested it, so he must want it too. Zen’s head was spinning as he nodded in what he hoped was not an overly enthusiastic way. Jumin already had a big head; Zen didn’t feel the need to add to it by being too eager.  
Jumin set the bag down on the desk and raised both his hands to cup Zen’s face before slowly moving in to make their lips meet. The first brush of their lips was so soft it was almost nonexistent, but it was enough to make Zen shiver. Zen tilted his head slightly and forced their lips to meet again, the contact stronger this time, but still gentle.  
“Jumin’s a good kisser,” was the last coherent thought that Zen was able to muster before he pushed himself closer to Jumin, their chests flush against one another as their lips moved with more confidence. Zen gave in to all of his feelings, as mixed as they were and lost himself in the sweet motion of Jumin’s lips over his. He reached up, looping his hands around Jumin’s neck to bring them even closer together. Jumin’s hands glided down his sides before finding purchase on his waist.  
The kiss was sweet and tender, and they were both breathless when they were forced to pull apart due to Jumin’s ringing phone.  
Jumin answered his phone, moving away from Zen to stare out the window, leaving Zen even more confused than he was before their lips met. He resisted the urge to touch his own lips; they were still tingling from the soft sensation of Jumin’s. Zen’s heart was rapidly beating as if it was trying to run a marathon without his permission. _Fuck, I kissed Jumin Han, and I liked it._  
“I must go meet with a sportswear company concerning a recent contract,” Jumin announced as he hung up his phone and gathered his briefcase. Zen simply nodded at him as he watched Jumin exit the room.  
“Fucking jerk, always taking things without any regard for other people,” Zen all but shouted to the empty room. He was afraid that the thing Jumin had “taken” this time was his heart, and he would be damned if he wasn’t going down without a fight. _Down. I wonder how Jumin will look down on his knees taking something else. Fuck._

~~~Zen has entered the chat~~~  
Zen: JERK!  
Zen: I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT JERK!  
~~~707 has entered the chat~~~  
707: Oh look, their first marital spat, lol!  
Zen: We are not, nor will we ever be, married!  
~~~Jaehee Kang has entered the chat~~~  
Zen: How do you put up with him, Jaehee?  
Jaehee: With quiet indignation.  
Jaehee: What did Mr. Han do?  
Zen: ….  
Zen: ….  
Zen: Well, I…  
Jaehee: I don’t know what that means.  
Zen: He kissed me.  
Jaehee: WHAT!?  
707: And you liked it!  
Zen: Thats nit… ug;h  
707: Typos, Zen must be really flustered, lol  
Jaehee: I did not agree with this arrangement in the first place. As an actor, you have a certain public image to maintain for the sake of your career.  
Jaehee: Please use your best judgment moving forward.  
Zen: I don’t, I mean.  
707: Just admit that Jumin is a good kisser.  
Zen: NEVER  
Zen: …  
Zen: Wait, how would you know?  
707: Seven oh Seven does not kiss and tell  
~~~Jumin Han has entered the chat~~~  
Jaehee: Mr. Han.  
Jumin: I would never kiss anyone who abuses Elizabeth 3rd.  
707: lol, that’s what you say now  
Zen: I thought you were in a meeting!  
Jumin: It ended.  
Jumin: You are unhappy with my kissing skills?  
Zen: ….  
Zen: ….  
Zen: No comment  
707: lol, Zen’s playing hard to get  
Jaehee: My friend has returned. Please excuse me.  
Zen: Bye Jaehee.  
~~~Jaehee Kang has left the chat~~~  
707: I uh, have work to do, yeah, bye.  
~~~707 has left the chat~~~  
Jumin: If there is an issue, please address me directly.  
Zen: I…. I don’t know if there is or not.  
Zen: I’m going to go workout.  
~~~Zen has left the chat~~~  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know you are probably getting tired of reading "thanks" but I really do mean it! Only one chapter left, will the dorks get their act together? Yes, of course, that's the point of fanfiction ;)


	5. Catpology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zen apologizes to Jumin and the two discuss where they stand in relation to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the last chapter :( I hope you all have enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

The next morning, Jumin was gone before Zen awoke. They had not said a word to each other the night before and Zen was afraid it was his fault. Wait, no, scratch that, he knew it was his fault, but he didn’t know whether or not he wanted to fix it. His mind kept wandering back to their kiss and each time he did his embarrassment at his harsh words in the chat grew. Zen had enjoyed the kiss; he had to at least admit that to himself. If he was being completely honest, he hadn’t just enjoyed it. There were feelings behind the way their lips had moved together experimentally, as if they were both soaking in the others reactions. That was what had rattled Zen the most, not the kiss itself, but the intense intimately of it and the implications it had on their newly repaired friendship.   
This weekend had been nice. Jumin had been nice to him and he had needed a vacation from work, but it was just that, a nice vacation. Zen repeatedly reminded himself of this, but his mind would still wander back to how he felt holding Jumin’s hand and how angry he was at Mr. Chairman for upsetting his son. _But that’s what good friends do; they worry about their friends. But they don’t want to hold their hand or have fantasies concerning their mouths on intimate parts of your body._   
Zen was ripped from his thoughts by a knock at the door. There, the driver Jumin hired for the weekend greeted him.  
“Mr. Han has requested that I take you to wherever you desire, however, you will be dining together promptly at 7 PM. Mr. Han has left your clothes for the evening in the bathroom,” the driver informed him with a short bow.   
Anger burgeoned in Zen’s chest at Jumin’s orders concerning dinner, which quickly dissipated his previous thoughts about how nice Jumin’s mouth had felt pressed against his own. It left him feeling as if the world was back in balance because balance was safe and far less confusing.

\----------  
   
Zen had no clue what Jumin liked besides his blasted cat. So, he wandered aimlessly around various knick-stores at the shopping center he had requested to be dropped off at. While he was still uneasy about their kiss and their situation, he had to admit that he overreacted last night. After all, calling Jumin a jerk in the group chat was uncalled for (this time, at least). As it was, now Zen was shopping for an apology gift for the man who always takes what he wants, which made him ridiculously hard to shop for.   
“Hello. May I help you find something?” a store clerk asked, noting how lost he looked.   
“I need a gift for…for my friend, an apology gift,” Zen replied, thankful for any help he could get but unsure as to what Jumin actually was to him.  
“For a man or woman?”   
“Man. He likes cats and work.”  
The store clerk chuckled and gave Zen a strange look before motioning for him to follow.   
“What kind of work does your… friend do?”  
“He’s a director at a large company.”  
“I think I have the perfect thing,” the store clerk said, opening a case, and from it, pulling out a small black box. Zen picked it up from its place on the counter and opened it. Looking up at him were two silver cuff links in the shape of Persian cats. Zen gasped, Jumin was going to love them.   
“That’s perfect, thank you. I’ll take them,” Zen smiled at the clerk.   
“Good, would you like the gift wrapped?”  
As Zen watched the clerk elegantly wrap the small box, he wondered if he was going overboard with the gift since they were not really dating. He knew for a fact that Jumin would love them, but were they really necessary? Shouldn’t he just apologize for overstepping his bounds? After all, once they leave London they will go back to their friendly rivalry through the messenger and only see each other at the yearly parties. So, why was he getting his rival an expensive and thoughtful gift when he was only here as a favor and nothing more? Well, Zen didn’t have an answer to that question, but he had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with the annoying fluttering in his stomach whenever Jumin acknowledged his presence. This just wasn’t acceptable; not only did Zen hate the way Jumin flaunted his money, but he also had no evidence proving that Jumin even had a heart, let alone whether or not he could love anyone, let alone a lowly actor.   
“Here you go sir, I believe your boyfriend…err friend is going to love it!” the store clerk reassured as she handed him the package. Zen tried to ignore the way his heart flipped when the word “boyfriend” had accidently slipped from the store clerk’s mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to put on his normal seductive smirk to tease her. Instead, he simply smiled nervously as he left. _What had happened to the seductive, playboy like actor I used to be and why had it been Jumin that caused him to change?_ Jaehee was going to be furious with him, maybe more so than he was at himself. He clutched the package tightly on his way out of the store, as if it could answer all his questions.

\----------  
   
Jumin looked ridiculously attractive and it made Zen furious – or turned on. He wasn’t sure if those two things were different at this point or not. But Jumin nonetheless looked stunning in deep navy blue suit decorated with a white grid pattern. Underneath the suits jacket, he wore a simple white shirt that was lacking his usual pinstripes.   
Jumin stood when Zen walked into their private dining area. He moved to the other side of the table pull Zen’s chair out for him. Zen’s face flushed with embarrassment at Jumin’s chivalrous gesture. It seemed Jumin was not angry, despite Zen’s unkind words the day before.  
Zen sat down while Jumin returned to his seat.   
“I hope you don’t mind, but I ordered for us,” Jumin declared when they were both settled in.   
“No, that’s fine.”  
The waiter came in to fill their wine glasses and serve their salads before leaving them to an uncomfortable silence. Zen knew he should be the one to speak, but somehow he could not find the words. Apparently neither could Jumin because he offered nothing to break the silence either.   
After their meal of lamb chops and rice pilaf was delivered, Zen finally decided to break the silence.  
“I’m sorry.”  
“What for?”  
“For…well, for a lot of things, but for calling you a jerk to start with.”  
“That was hardly the first time you’ve called me that.”  
“You’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”  
“Of course not, that wouldn’t be any fun.”  
“You enjoy teasing me?” Zen asked, skeptically.   
“Yes. You may continue with your apology.”  
“I…fine. I’m sorry that I overreacted about the kiss; I obviously agreed to kiss you for the sake of our story and it was not fair to complain about it to the others.”  
“Apology accepted. I will never force you to do anything you don’t want to and I would appreciate it if you talked to me first about your qualms.”  
“Any qualms, or only those related to your actions?” Zen asked, wanting to know where exactly they stood.  
“Any,” Jumin replied simply.   
The waiter interrupted their discussion to take away their empty plates. He left a piece of chocolate cake for them to share. After taking a bite of the sinfully sweet cake, Zen was reminded of the small package in his breast coat pocket.   
“Ummm,” Zen started.  
“Yes?”  
“I got this for you, as an apology for last night,” Zen offered, placing the wrapped cufflinks on the table for Jumin to take.   
When Jumin opened the box Zen could have sworn that he cracked a smile, an un-Jumin-like smile that made Zen’s heart palpitate.   
“Thank you, they are lovely.”   
“I thought you would like them.”  
Zen was content that he had not grievously hurt Jumin’s feelings, but was surprised when Jumin suddenly jumped up and walked out of the room, half of the cake still uneaten. A few minutes later the door opened, but it was not Jumin who entered. Instead, it was their driver.  
“Mr. Han had some urgent business to take care of. He instructed me to take you back to your hotel at your earliest convenience,” the driver explained.   
Zen sighed, annoyed that Jumin had not told him this himself, but stood to leave anyway. 

\----------  
   
“I have come to a conclusion,” Jumin stated simply as he entered their hotel room later that evening.  
“Um, okay,” Zen, said confused, turning to face Jumin.   
Zen met Jumin’s eyes as he stood up from where he had been sitting by the window. What he found in those eyes scared him. It sent a shiver down his spine. He saw emotion, raw emotion, in those brown eyes. They were swimming with uncertainty and warmth. Zen wasn’t sure what Jumin wanted to say after storming out of the restaurant, but he could tell that it was important.   
Jumin moved towards Zen with two quick steps to close the gap between them. Zen’s breath hitched as their noses almost touched.   
Jumin kissed Zen’s cheek. “I love you,” he said, proceeding to kiss his other cheek. He moved to capture Zen’s lips in a chaste kiss before saying again, “I love you.” And then he waited. Their faces were still centimeters apart, Jumin waiting for Zen’s response.   
Zen closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady his racing heart. Jumin loved him, Mr. Trust Fund Kid, loved him. But Zen was still confused. On one hand, this weekend trip had illuminated Jumin’s true personality, but it had also been… well, nice – comfortable. Zen rationalized his behavior as losing himself in the character of Jumin’s boyfriend. He had convinced himself that was the reason sadness overtook him when he thought about no longer seeing Jumin after tomorrow. He was sad that he could no longer play the character of Jumin’s boyfriend. He also couldn’t deny that the thought of him waking up in his own bed on Tuesday, without Jumin’s warmth beside him, knocked the air from his lungs.  
Zen’s chest constricted and he felt as if he stepped into a scorching fire, but he had no intentions of moving.  
“You’re… You’re arrogant and blunt and cold,” Zen could see Jumin stiffen at his words, but he kept going, “and…passionate and warm and caring and gentle and…I think I may be,” Zen paused. His heart was beating faster, uncontrollably fast, before he finished his sentence. “I think I may be falling in love with you too.”  
“You’re unsure?” Jumin asked after a meaningful pause, his eyes happy, but with a hint of concern.  
“Yes, I am unsure about how I feel, but I do feel _something_ and I do want to be with you because you make me feel like I am both flying and on fire all at once. I want to feel more of that. I want to understand it,” Zen replied quietly, which was apparently enough to soothe Jumin’s worries, because the next thing Zen knew their lips were touching. This kiss was not chaste like the one before, it was passionate and fervent and breathtaking. It was still an experiment, but no longer one to where determine where they stood. Instead, it was a confirmation of both their feelings, and their willingness to explore them further.   
Jumin ran his tongue along Zen’s bottom lip, silently asking for entry and Zen complied with a moan. Jumin explored his mouth, caressing every part of it with his tongue as Zen’s hands reached up and curled into Jumin’s shirt, pulling him closer.   
Zen whimpered when Jumin broke them apart, mourning the loss of their newfound physical contact. Jumin clutched Zen’s hand and gently pulled him towards the bed.   
“I’m not… I mean, it’s not that I don’t want to, but I want to take it slow,” Zen explained when they reached the bed.  
Jumin smiled, “I know. Just let me hold you. Let me kiss you to make sure this is real, not just my imagination.”   
Zen complied, pausing to take off his jacket before lying down on the bed. Jumin did the same.   
Jumin wrapped his arms around Zen’s torso and pressed light kisses on the back of Zen’s neck.   
Zen sighed, before he questioned Jumin’s earlier pleas. “Imagination, you imagined this?”  
Jumin hummed in affirmation against Zen’s neck in response.  
“How long?”  
“Since we first met.”  
Zen’s breath hitched at Jumin’s admission. He hadn’t expected so much emotion to fill his chest. Zen couldn’t think of another time when he had been this happy.  
Zen thought that he could get used to this, get used to melting in Jumin’s arms and the feeling of Jumin’s hot mouth moving against his skin. Yes, Zen was looking forward to many nights of this, because being in Jumin’s arms felt like home. 

\----------  
   
EPILOGUE  
“I still can’t believe that your bathtub is the size of a four person hot tub,” Zen stated.   
“Is that why you’re sitting in my lap?”  
“Do you want me to move?” Zen asked leaning forward, water sloshing as he did.  
“Never,” Jumin whispered, his arms reaching around Zen’s naked chest and pulling Zen back to rest against his own. It had been four months since their trip to London, and Zen was still amazed at how right it felt to be in Jumin’s arms. He would never get used to the feeling and he hoped that he never would.   
Jumin watched as Zen’s silvery locks floated on top of the soap-sud filled water. He sighed as he pressed his nose into Zen’s scalp and breathed in his scent. He smelled like the peppermint and the lavender oil they had placed in the bath.   
“Dunk your head in the water,” Jumin requested as he reached for the bottle of shampoo. Zen complied, wetting his hair and positioning himself so that Jumin could massage his scalp with the shampoo.   
Jumin groaned, as he gently eased the cleanser through the length of the actor’s locks.  
“I knew you always like my hair,” Zen smirked at the sound that had just left his boyfriend’s throat.   
“Of course, it’s as soft as silk, and all mine to touch.”  
“Mmmm, yes. I am yours. But if you try to lock me up or something, we’re going to have a problem,” Zen teased.  
Jumin lightly flicked Zen’s forehead in retribution, but without any actual intention of hurting him behind it.   
After both males had fully cleansed each other, they sank down into the soothing water, arms wrapped around one another.   
“Our bath is starting to cool. Perhaps we should take this to the bedroom?” Jumin advocated.   
“Hmm, we could. But then we would get messy again.”  
Jumin leaned down so his mouth was almost touching Zen’s ear and whispered, “Then we can talk another bath later. I want to make you mine.”   
Jumin was rewarded with a shiver and a breathy “yes.” He moved his boyfriend off his lap and climbed out of the tub. Jumin dried off with a towel before wrapping it around his waist. He reached down and helped Zen out of the bath and handed him a towel.   
After Zen had dried himself, Jumin stepped closer and lightly kissed his nose, before moving Zen’s arms around his neck and grabbing the back of the actor’s thighs. Zen’s eyes widened, but he allowed himself to be picked up and then wrapped his legs around Jumin’s waist for stability. Zen rested his head on Jumin’s shoulder, as the executive carried him to the bed. Jumin laid him down gently before crawling on top of him. Jumin’s towel was the only thing in between them and Zen drank in the feel of his velvety skin.   
“I love you,” Zen breathed, his pupils blown with arousal.   
Jumin leaned down and lightly ran the tip of his nose along Zen’s neck before saying, “I love you too.” They spent the rest of the night drowning in each other’s perfection, neither wanting to ever let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then they had sex. Lots of it. And Jaehee murdered them both when she found out. The end.

**Author's Note:**

> dorks


End file.
